


Are you sure of yourself/would you lie if you’re not?

by deathlytireddan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, mostly hugs and barely any plot as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 19:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12754857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathlytireddan/pseuds/deathlytireddan
Summary: Dan sags against him, dropping the spoon onto the counter. “I’m sorry,” he says tightly, arms around Phil’s neck. He’s breathing shallowly against Phil’s ear, whole body trembling.-Phil struggles with helping Dan just before he leaves uni.





	Are you sure of yourself/would you lie if you’re not?

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Put Your Arms Around Me (autumn breeze remix) by Texas. 10/10 song, would recommend.
> 
> This is for a prompt on tumblr! Hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> Warnings: Angst, anxiety (sort of), brief strong language. Mental health problems if you squint?

Dan is acting strange. Dan always acts strange, but it’s more noticeable when he’s tired and doesn’t cover it up with sweeping hands and dirty jokes.

Dan overthinks everything. Phil’s known this for almost as long as he’s known Dan. Uni, this thing called YouTube that might be an escape from uni, himself.

Phil has noticed. He tries to do little things. Make Dan hot chocolate, make him a milkshake with their new blender, make him sit and play video games with Phil.

Dan stares into space, loses games he should easily win, forgets to eat until Phil makes him.

-

It’s late. An opened textbook is almost falling off Dan’s lap and empty sheets of paper have fallen onto the floor. His chest is rising and falling slowly, head tucked under Phil’s armpit and an arm curled around Phil’s stomach.

He looks peaceful, dark circles covered by his lashes and twitching eyelids. Phil wonders what he’s dreaming about. If he’s in the dream.

“Dan. Dan. Dan.”

Dan makes a noise of complaint and burrows further into Phil’s armpit, making a sniffling noise. “Shrrt up,” he mumbles, arm tightening around Phil. “Mmm sleepin’.”

It would be cuter if he wasn’t wiping drool on Phil’s jumper. If Phil wasn’t so concerned.

“Yooou ‘dink,” Dan says, still under Phil’s armpit. “Take a show-a shower.” He yawns, hand reaching up to cover his mouth, blinking slowly. “What’s time?”

“Uh-“ Phil lifts a discarded paper to find his phone. “2 AM. Not that bad.”

Dan nods slowly and shifts, the textbook falling off his lap with a thud. “Fuck you too,” he mutters, disentangling himself from Phil and stretching his arms above his head.

Phil pulls his shirt layers back down, keeping the cold air off his stomach. “How tired are you?”

“Not that tired,” Dan says, yawning again. “I’ve been-been worse.” He bends down to haphazardly shove loose papers inside his textbook.

“Was it very important you study?” Phil feels guilty all of a sudden. Dan needed the sleep but he might have needed to study more. Phil was in uni not that long ago. He had plenty of all nighters.

He needs to stop babying Dan.

“I don’t know.” Dan shrugs, waving a hand dismissively.

He needs to talk to Dan. Dan’s barely a teenager now, Dan’s grown up, Dan-

“Sleep?” Dan pulls at Phil’s sleeve. “C’mon, I’m tired.”

“Okay. Lemme turn the lights off, first.” Phil turns the volume down on the tv and turns it off, reaches for the light switch.

“Kay.” Dan shuffles away.

Phil sighs and turns out the lights.

Tomorrow.

-

It isn’t tomorrow.

It’s only a few hours later, sometime during the night, when Phil rolls over and the firm warmth at his side is gone. The sheets are cold, Dan’s pillow is gone.

“Dan,” Phil calls quietly, half-hoping he won’t have to move. If Dan is studying he won’t make him sleep, as much as he wants to.

But Dan doesn’t answer. Phil sighs through his nose and pushes the blankets back, takes the large fleece one that’s folded up on a chair and drapes it around his shoulders.

“Dan?”

The door is cracked, like Dan hadn’t wanted to wake him up with the noise of closing it.

“Dan?”

Dan is sleeping on the sofa, pillow from the bed resting under him and a law book on his chest.

“Dan,” Phil breathes. He doesn’t know why he was so worried. Or, he does, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

Dan’s naked legs look awfully vulnerable for some reason. Phil covers him with the fleece blanket and carefully takes the textbook. Dan’s written several _fucks_ and one _shit_ in it. And _YouTube?_ underlined.

Phil looks down at him. He needs more chapstick, his mouth is raw and scabbed over in the corner.

“Phil?” Dan mumbles, fingers twitching.

Phil reaches out and brushes his knuckles. “I’m going to help you figure this out. I promise.”

Dan grasps his fingers and pulls. It isn’t very strong, he’s more than half-asleep, but Phil is startled. He catches himself on the edge of the sofa, nearly falling all over Dan.

“Why’d you leave?” Dan asks petulantly, lip jutting out, eyes still shut.

“I didn’t,” Phil says. He can’t help being amused under all the worry. Dan doesn’t always have the best memory and when he’s asleep it’s nonexistent.

“Yes you did.” Dan shakes his head. “Lay down.” He shuffles backward and lifts an arm slowly.

Phil has less than four inches but he makes it work. Dan’s long arms and legs keep him from falling. He wraps himself around Phil, determined not to let him leave.

Manchester is still awake, the flat below them is still awake, Dan is probably not completely awake.

“Goodnight. Don’t leave. Wanna talk to you in the morning,” Dan says, slurring the words.

Phil reminds him it’s probably already morning, mind whirring with all the possibilities of what Dan could want to say.

The underlined _Youtube?_ and the _fucks_ and _shit_ in his textbook?

-

Dan is gone when Phil wakes.

There’s a brief moment of panic, until he hears Dan’s soft footsteps coming from the kitchen.

Phil silently scolds himself. He needs to stop worrying so much. It’s a Saturday, Dan doesn’t have class until later. Of course he wouldn’t just leave.

The sofa creaks as he sits up and finds his glasses. They’d fallen onto the floor sometime during the night.

“Phil?” Dan calls. His footsteps move toward the sofa, coming around it to stand in front of Phil.

“I’m awake,” Phil says. Dan is wearing only white pants and a long grey jumper, loose around his neck.

Dan tugs at a strand of hair, expertly pushing it back into place. “I went to the shops. I might’ve eaten all your cereal last night.” He doesn’t sound very sorry.

The bags under his eyes aren’t any better.

“What time is it?” Phil rubs the sleep out of his eyes and stretches, back popping.

_YouTube? Fuck._

Dan shifts. “Morning, I guess.” He takes a breath. “I’ll make you a coffee.” He moves away, shoulders tense.

Phil catches his sleeve, pulls him back. “You don’t have to do that.”

Dan’s shoulders go down a tiny, tiny bit. “I want to,” he says softly. Then, voice harsher, “You’re basically my sugar daddy. Might as well make you a coffee.”

“What d’you mean?” It’s not like they haven’t joked about that before. Of course they have. It’s funny. Just not when Dan is looking like this.

“I don’t know.” Dan shrugs off Phil’s hands and laughs humorlessly. “Forget it, Phil. I was just joking.”

He moves away, walking around the breakfast bar and opening a cupboard to find their instant coffee.

Phil follows. There’s not babying Dan and there’s not letting him be mean to himself. That’s something Phil is all too familiar with.

The electric kettle boils. Dan pours hot water into a mug, splashing onto the side of his wrist. It seeps into his jumper and makes him flinch away but he keeps pouring, starts shoveling spoon after spoon of coffee into the water.

Phil gentle closes his fingers around Dan’s wrist. It’s too hot. “Dan.”

Dan’s hands shake. “What?”

“Dan.”

Dan sags against him, dropping the spoon onto the counter. “I’m sorry,” he says tightly, arms around Phil’s neck. He’s breathing shallowly against Phil’s ear, whole body trembling.

“It’s okay.” Phil gently takes his hand and pushes the wet sleeve back. His skin is red. Phil presses a kiss to one of his tendons, to the bone that juts out.

Dan is watching him intently, other hand holding onto the fabric at Phil’s shoulder. He’s stopped trembling but his eyes are wet, moisture gathering in the corners.

He breathes in, out, in. “We can talk now, I suppose,” he says tightly.

They position themselves on the sofa, Phil holding Dan’s hand and Dan’s head resting on Phil’s shoulder. It’s maybe not the best position to have a serious conversation in.

“I hate uni. Really, really fucking hate it.” Dan says. Phil can feel his body tense and shift and breathe. “I think you know that, though.”

Phil nods, waiting for Dan to say more. He seems to be gathering his thoughts, though it sounds like he knows what he wants to say already.

“I knew it was a bad idea. Law. I just-I didn’t expect it to be this bad, you know? I thought I'd at least understand what I’m reading. It doesn’t make any sense, at all.”

Phil has read some of Dan’s law books. He’s asked Dan to explain them, and Dan has always been able to.

“You're smarter than you think,” Phil says, needing to make Dan understand that.

Dan makes an impatient noise. “Can you imagine me as a lawyer? Wearing a suit all day? I’d look like an idiot. I’d definitely need a new hair cut.”

Phil smiles a bit, imaging Dan with his hair pushed back, wearing a black business suit and standing in front of a jury.

Dan smiles back, rolling his eyes. “It isn’t hot.”

“I never said it was.”

“Good.”

Dan rubs at his wrist. “I’m not making a decision right now,” he says suddenly. “That’s not-that’s not what this is.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Dan nods, seeming trying to convince himself. He fidgets, tracing Phil’s palm and then turning his hand over to examine the knuckles and long, long fingers.

“And then I apparently ‘submitted a paper in the wrong format,’” He says, raising his hands to make air quotes. “I don’t even...and she wouldn’t let me re-submit it, even though I think that’s the only paper I've actually done a good job on.”

“She?”

“My professor for my criminal law class,” Dan explains. He sounds irritated.

Phil forces himself to stay relaxed. Dan’s falling against him again. That’s clearly been on Dan mind. And that’s finally something they can fix, at least.

“Did you talk to uni or anything?” Phil asks, hopeful but doubting. Dan just shrugs.

The idea of talking to them is making Phil’s chest feel funny under his breastbone and his stomach squirm. He doesn’t want to.

He will.

Because Dan doesn’t want to bother, or he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. And this is something that Phil can fix. Phil needs to fix something or he’ll go insane.

Phil pulls Dan to his chest, kisses his wrist again. Dan seems done with the conversation, looking at nothing. “Let’s eat something,” Phil says.

Dan nods, still staring into space, eyebrows creased. “Sure.”

-

Phil’s palms are sweating.

He’s been pacing the kitchen for minutes, phone in one hand and the name of Dan’s professor on a piece of paper in the other, just in case he forgets. And around that he has a few sentences planned out.

He’s not going to say he’s Dan’s boyfriend, because that sounds like he’s being overprotective and Dan hasn’t told anyone about them, anyway.

Phil will say he’s a friend, which is true. Phil will say he’s worried about Dan, which is true.

He’ll be concerned and caring but casual. Adult.

He finally taps _call_ with his thumb and puts the phone to his ear, coming to stop in front of a window.

Dan’s gone home to his dorm, having a class in the evening and saying he needed to clean before that. It was maybe an excuse.

 _Ring_.

There’s an uncomfortable pressure under Phil’s breastbone, butterflies and moths in his stomach. He takes a deep breath.

 _Ring_.

The professor never picks up.

Phil is torn between being happy and annoyed. It is the weekend. But it had said on the uni website she’s happy to answer phone calls and questions from her students every day of the week.

She sounded too nice to him.

He finds a phone number for the uni that should help, too. He dials, waits. It’s barely started ringing before someone picks up.

“Hello?” It’s a woman, northern accent pleasant and surprising. “This is Cheryl, how may I help you?”

Phil swallows dryly. “I’m calling for my friend. Uh, Daniel Howell.”

“Yes? Is he ill?” She sounds concerned. Not the fake kind, either.

“No.” He sort of is, though. In a way. “Sorry to bother you.”

“It’s alright, luv. This is my job!” She laughs. “How can I help?”

Phil takes a deep breath. He glances down at his notes, and his carefully written sentences. “He submitted a paper in the wrong format, I think, and he won’t try to fix it. He’s not in a good place right now and-I just want to do something for him.”

That might have been too much. He walks into the kitchen and around the breakfast bar, staring at his shark socks on the white tile.

“That happens to many students! Sometimes the professor isn’t clear enough, or it’s just a simple mistake. Did you try talking to the professor? I’m sure everything can be worked out.”

He lets out a breath at that. “I just tried calling, but she didn’t pick up.”

“Well, why don’t you give me her information and your friend’s and I'll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” Phil says, relief making his tense shoulders relax and the knot in his stomach loosen. “Thank you.”

“It’s my job!” She says again, laughing kindly.

-

Phil doesn’t see Dan for a week after that. They text every day, call nearly every day. Phil posts a video, answers an email. Dan tells him he’s studying, going out with a few friends.

Phil doesn’t tell Dan.

He should, he knows he should. It just doesn’t feel right to say it over text, somehow. Dan might be annoyed or not, but whatever his reaction Phil wants to see it for himself.

Friday evening, Dan arrives just after their takeout has arrived. Dan looks tense. He hugs Phil briefly, quickly moving to the sofa with a pizza and a glass of water.

Phil turns on the tv, looking at Dan out of the corner of his eye. Dan is sitting on the sofa, knees drawn to his chest. He’d normally put his toes under Phil’s thighs, or rest his long legs across Phil’s lap.

“Are you feeling bad?” Phil asks tentatively. He thinks he already understands. The professor talked to Dan without Dan already knowing and now he’s angry. At Phil.

“No. Just tired.” Dan wipes his fingers on a napkin and sets his plate on the floor. “How was your week?”

Phil shrugs, picking at his pizza crust. Dan heaves a sigh and reaches for it. Phil pulls away, surprised at his sudden movement.

Dan blinks at him, biting his lip. Right over a scab that’s been there for weeks. “Sorry,” he says quietly.

“No, you just surprised me.”

Phil feels awful, suddenly. They’re never like this, not anymore. Not Dan biting his lip and Phil worrying over everything. Not second guessing and barely touching.

Phil sets his plate next to Dan’s on the floor and takes his hands, pulling him forward. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if you minded. Or-not done anything at all. If that’s what you wanted.”

Dan looks confused. “I don’t mind. That’s not-“ he shakes his head. “Phil, you idiot. I do mind. Not in a bad way. In a good way.” He shakes his head again. “I was surprised. I never thought you'd do something like that for me.”

He looks at Phil from under his eyelashes, partly hidden by his fringe. “I know you hate making phone calls. I’m surprised you even ordered pizza today.”

Phil smiles sheepishly. “I ordered it online.”

“Of course you did.” Dan has relaxed against him, arm curled around Phil. “Did you think I’d be mad?”

Did he? “I didn’t know what you’d be. You just looked...upset when you got here.”

Dan sighs softly. “I’m just thinking a lot today. More than usual, I s’pose.”

Phil winces. He knows what it means when Dan says he’s been thinking. Bad thoughts, thoughts that make Phil want to project himself into Dan’s mind and throw them all away.

“Dan.” He turns, makes sure Dan is looking at only him. “I want you to talk to me when you feel bad. I don’t care if it’s because you want to run away or if it’s because you stubbed your toe. Promise?” Phil holds out his pinky.

Dan’s cheeks are tinting, his eyes are shiny. He links their pinkies together. “Yeah. Okay.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment?
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](https://nostalgiclondon.tumblr.com)


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